Through dirty windows I can see
the mountain full of golden days,
the days of friendship close to me,
when we cared not of yesterday,
when everything was greener, shining,
and we believed there was no dying.
Running fast, faster than a lightning,
we used to play beneath the sky,
and it was sometimes very frightening,
and we loved to see it turning black.
I was a captain, warrior, an ancient hero,
we were to conquer all the world,
and as the sun was shining with no mercy,
we were treading on the endless road.
The days were more than days, remember?
The nights were nothing but a shade,
and as the smiling sun was going to surrender,
we were to see it back, saying, it cannot fade…
It cannot fade, no, it’s here and it lasts,
nothing ever covers it with dirt and dust,
and even through a dirty window it shall pass.
more by GEORGI DIMITROV-KARLOVSKI
photograph by Gili Benita